Whiskey Lullaby
by LSMunch
Summary: Songfic from Minerva McGonagalls point of view.


Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything associated with Harry Potter. It all belongs to that genius of a woman JK Rowling, and i somewhat hate her for it. I also do not own the lyrics to Whiskey Lullaby by Brad Paisley with Allison Krauss.

Now, on with the show.

I never saw Remus as happy or as filled with life as when he started to go out with Hermione. She gave him a reason to live through the pain. A reason to get up every morning and to go to sleep each night. She made his transformations bearable and he wasn't as tired after them as he used to be. They taught each other and learned from each other. Hermione gave him life and he gave back as much as he could. After Sirius died, Remus lost a lot of himself. He looked at himself as the last marauder and he became depressed. Hermione changed him, made him see the light.

_She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette_

_She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget_

_We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time_

_But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind_

_Until the night_

We never thought that they would end. Never. Even Severus thought so. Then it did end. No one knows why, I don't even think she knew. The fact is, it happened. Remus took it worse than when Sirius died. I don't think he ever believed he'd find someone to love, not since he was a werewolf. We watched him suffer and wallow in pain. He turned to the bottle to ease his troubles. He began to drink Old Ogden's Firewhiskey, to be exact. I thought he couldn't reach lower than he did when Sirius died, but he proved me wrong. He was always talking about things they did and how great she was.

_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger_

_And finally drank away her memory_

_Life is short but this time it was bigger_

_Than the strength he had to get up off his knees_

_We found him with his face down in the pillow_

_With a note that said I'll love her till I die_

_And when we buried him beneath the willow_

_The angels sang a whiskey lullaby_

One night, we were all going to Grimmauld Place to have a Christmas party. Remus had been living there ever since Voldemort returned. We called his name and finally went up to his room. We couldn't believe what we saw. I started to cry, and Albus rubbed my back. Severus went over and took a note off the bedside table. He read it and then all shuffled down to the kitchen, Christmas spirit gone. Severus levitated Remus down the stairs and we got him to the school. We buried him beneath the Whomping Willow, a signature to him. I think even the angels grieved that day, even though they received an angel like no other.

_The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself_

_For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath_

_She finally drank her pain away a little at a time_

_But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind_

_Until the night_

She never did get back together with him. Didn't even attend his funeral. She was always talking about him and even Harry and Ron couldn't console her. No one could. She turned to the bottle to ease her pain, though she could never forget. She drank Old Ogden's Firewhiskey, same as Remus, whe nshe was off or on weekends. She kept to herself and she didn't come to many school functions. All she did was teach. She became as secluded from the school as Severus but she was never bitter toward the students. Never.

_She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger_

_And finally drank away his memory_

_Life is short but this time it was bigger_

_Than the strength she had to get up off her knees_

_We found her with her face down in the pillow_

_Clinging to his picture for dear life_

_We laid her next to him beneath the willow_

_While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby_

Albus had sent her an owl, asking her to join in the Halloween festivities. Though she didn't come on her own accord, she always came when invited by the Headmaster. She never showed up. After dinner, Albus, Severus, Poppy and I went to check on her. We feared the worst. We came upon her same as Remus and again it was Severus who went forward and Albus who rubbed my back as I cried. Severus held up a picture of Remus. It was crinkled and tear stained. Remus was sad in the picture, sitting at his desk, crying. We buried her beneath the Whomping Willow, next to Remus, a signature to their love. The angels mourned again that day as they received yet another into their arms.

That day I swear I heard the angels singing. Singing a lullaby. A whiskey lullaby. A signature to how they died. A signature to how they mourned. A signature to how they loved. A whiskey lullaby.

---Minerva McGonagall---

A/N: This was a fun story to write and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. Constructive critism taken. Thank you.


End file.
